ABOUT BUYING A HORSE. 193 



I say " we," meaning Cazell and myself. I do not intend 

 to go alone. I do not know why I should feel safer with 

 Cazell than without, but somehow it seems to divide the 

 danger. I keep the word " danger " to myself. 



Cazell observes, dubiously, " The horse has been in 

 harness, eh?" 



I reply, " O, yes. There's the mark of the collar, that 

 hasn't worn off yet." 



I own this is 7iot perfectly satisfactory to me, and it wasn't 

 when I bought him. Still, I hadn't the opportunity of trying 

 him then, as the gipsy would have sold him to some one 

 else, the trap was being repaired, and the horse was, I must 

 admit that, a real bargain. Before, or since, I have not met 

 his equal for jumping over umbrellas and garden-seats on a 

 lawn, and for a spanking trot with his neck arched, and his 

 nose touching his knees. I should say for riding he is safety 

 itself, except when he gives a kind of hitch up behind — a 

 sort of flank movement — as though he had got on sailor's 

 trousers that didn't exactly fit him. 



Murgle returns safe and sound. He has been out exactly 

 two hours. He is so punctual in his return, and appears so 

 uncommonly fresh himself, looking quite the Jolly Gardener 

 on horseback (a good name for an inn, by the way), that I 

 fancy a happy thought must have occurred to Murgle, when 

 he had once turned the corner and got out of sight, to this 

 effect: — 



Murgle {to hhnself). — Master wants me to be out for two 

 hours with the hoss. 



